If this guy can get published, so can you!

(By way of warning, some of you may find this a tad indecent. I find it too ridiculous to be titillating, but if you're worried, I would recommend you stay away from the second link that leads to pages 98-99)

"Her ears were a puzzle carved in ivory. . ." O yeah, baby! Can't you just hear Barry White singing that line! Wouldn't that just melt your heart. . . your heart is a fawn galloping like a steed through the midnight canyon, a cup of wine spilling through the night, foxtail, amaranth, budding daisy of a newborn day. . . heart beating--the wings of bird pooping on a novel--metaphors, similies, analogies, pointless, splattered upon the page in endless dialogue with itself, causing the heart--the heart like dillweed blossoming, to beat within the chest of the author and scream for the reader to beat, Beat, BEat, BEAt, BEAT the @&%! out of all the metaphors, similies, figurative language that have been crapped on this page and killed any semblance of desire!

*I'm sorry, I got a little carried away--the style is so inspiring that I could not help but take the author's lead. . . :)**p.s. I can honestly say that I have never read a work where an author has described pubes (and used metaphor with it) before--that is nothing short of amazing and deserves a Pulitzer. . .